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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26549776">(Rewritten and Active)(Octane x Reader Blood Hound) When Lying Hearts Deceive Themselves</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatSpacedOutAuthor/pseuds/ThatSpacedOutAuthor'>ThatSpacedOutAuthor</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Apex Legends (Video Games)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>18+, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Author will steal your kneecaps if you hate, Bloodhound Needs a Hug (Apex Legends), Bloodhound is Reader, Blow Jobs, Bully turned to Friend, Childhood Competitor, Choking, Cockblocking, Coworkers to friends, Drunk Sex, Edge Play, Elias has a M.I.L.F., Elias is a dick sometimes, Eventual Smut, F/M, Falling In Love, Family Drama, Family Problems, Female Reader, Friends to Lovers, Heminetho, Idiots in Love, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Love Denied, Major Character Injury, NSFW, Nipple Piercings, Nipple Play, Obsessive Behavior, Octane Needs a Hug (Apex Legends), Octane is best boi (Apex Legends), Original Character - Freeform, Passion, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Reactive-Attachment-Disorder - RAD, Reader-Chan needs a Hug, Regret, Resolved Heart Ache, Rough Sex, Self-Acceptance, Self-Hatred, Separation Anxiety, Shameless Smut, Stim abuse, Threesomes, Touch-Starved, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Vaginal Fingering, Viewer Discretion, a.k.a, and Bloodhound-Reader-Chan deserves him (Apex Legends), author interpretation, childhood bully, drinking buddies, fuck buddies, handjobs, lonely</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-04-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 08:07:30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>10,062</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26549776</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatSpacedOutAuthor/pseuds/ThatSpacedOutAuthor</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>What happens when the great Octavio Silva, the beloved daredevil known as Octane, comes to fall in love with someone he has both admired and envied from the very first time he ever met them? What happens when he finds out that the same woman he has been speaking to happens to be the one he admires, the true idol beneath their heavy mask? And what happens to Octavio Silva's heart when that same woman is dying in his arms, heart aching to reveal to her the truth of his love and appreciation..? </p><p>It started with the pet names, the food gifts, the subtle moments where Octavio claimed you as his. With the moments stolen in secret, to the revealing of your identity after the shocking betrayal of someone you thought you would never have to see again, it all came down to a point where you felt nothing could tear away the pain you felt inside. </p><p>This is, until the man who's bed you woke up in on most nights spoke of his love for you and not just the masked mystery you pose to be.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Bangalore | Anita Williams/Loba | Loba Andrade, Bloodhound/Octane | Octavio Silva, Caustic | Alexander Nox/Fuse | Walter Fitzeroy, Gibraltar | Makao Gibraltar/Nikolas, Lifeline | Ajay Che/Rampart | Ramya Parekh, Pathfinder | MRVN/Revenant | Kaleb Cross/Ash | Ashleigh Reid, Wattson | Natalie Paquette/ Crypto | Tae Joon Park, Wraith | Renee Blasey/Mirage | Elliot Witt</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>22</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The Beginning (Rewrite)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hi, so uh... READER IS BLOODHOUND! Considering we don't know Bloodhound's actuall gender from birth, I like to think of it as interperation... Of course, you can always replace the pronouns and body parts used with ones of your choice, but this is just how I write.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Gunfire and smoke rose through the air, weightless in the moment of battle. Gaze stained red and the trembling in the finger you would pull the trigger with was all that near centered you in the midst of the chaotic warzone. To your right was a rookie who seemed quite compatible with the Mozambique that he carried, and somewhere off in the distance was the quiet but ever digilant Wraith, finishing off the last member of squad three. </p><p>In this corrupt system of planets and social laws, the Apex League was a bloodbath of an entertainment game. From rookies, to the Legends themselves, everyone competed in raw intensive physical strain, paired into groups of three, exceptional to Duos on holidays and the weekends. You, the mysterious Icelandic hunter, were no different than the rest who fought tooth and nail for the money prize. </p><p>Victory gunshots ring out through the sudden stillness in the arena, signaling that you and your team were the Apex Champions for the Friday 3 o’clock match. The three of you migrate towards the center, circling around the Death Box of the last competitor, and you couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride that it had been your bullet to kill the opposing team’s last member. Death boxes littering the floor were called in via Wattson’s tech, and those who didn’t make it to the last round and summoned forth to congratulate your team. The TripleTake mounted to your back disappeared, as did the RE-45 in your hand. Bangalore pushed through the crowd of those who weren’t smart enough to make way, coming to your side and slinging a respectful cuff to the mask, her typical greeting if you won. </p><p>“Good job, Bloodhound, but next time I’ll get your 6.” </p><p>“Of course, Bangalore. May the Gods smile down upon that day, if it ever shall come.” You retort, smiling beneath the gas mask covering your lower face. Those close enough to hear your remark chuckle at the friendly banter between the two of you, and after a round of small talk to each, you and a small collection of the legends travel back to the dropship.</p><p>Those who hadn’t stayed behind to participate in small talk were already aboard and doing their own thing. Crypto stood silently towards the back, balancing his attention between his wrist mounted computer and the buzzing frame of his robotic friend. Caustic and Wattson conversed lowly on the loading deck of the ship, talking over what looked to be a modification that Caustic was working on for his gas traps. </p><p>“Yuh did great out there today, [Y/N].” Ajay’s thickly accented voice grasped your attention briefly, and tilting your head, you opt out smiling for a gentle nod of the head to show her your gratitude. </p><p>“The blóð ran well, is all.. I have Wraith to thank for such a fruitful event.”</p><p>“Aw, come, come, ditch da alibi, fool. We are friends, no? Speak like yuh do. No cameras follow on mah watch.” She responded bluntly, gently elbowing you before greeting a fast approaching Loba, who nodded briefly before making her way to the ship’s lobby, most likely to gather today’s coin for her efforts. A sigh of relief left you at her confirmation of safety, and although the voice you withheld was still just the slightest uncomfortable, you gladly dropped the accent that had started to become more and more unfamiliar the longer you avoided your homeland and it’s people. </p><p>“Mmmh… Alright...” </p><p>“Why yuh choose such wishy washy old time speech patterns anyways?” </p><p>“They were brought up differently, remember Ajay? Their Uncle raised them in the Old Ways, it’s only natural to want to hold onto the past.” Wraith responded eventually, after polishing her kunai and tucking it back in it’s carrier. A twinge of remorse coursed through you, but you couldn’t do much to comfort the older woman, even if you wanted too. You were too socially awkward to even begin thinking about what could ease the strained wounds of not remembering a past life. You cannot even imagine  what it would feel like if you did not remember your mother and father… </p><p>As if sensing your sudden change of emotion, Wraith gently put a hand on your shoulder, and when you look up, she smiles. This brings you back to a small grin, and nodding to the two girls, you lead the way into the drop ship. Buckling in and sitting down comfortably, you wait- it was the only thing you could do now, until the last Legends board and the ship takes off to the living quarters provided to you and your comrades. </p><p>It didn’t take long, thankfully, and each person goes off to sit with their respective friend groups to enjoy small talk. Elliot, with his stupid grin and clumsy ways, came right over as soon as he saw your small group of friends in deep conversation, slinging an arm around your shoulders. </p><p>“If it isn’t the ol’ Champ! 5 wins in a row! Let me just say, Octane is in quite the rush to catch up. Being crowned Apex Champion within the past seasons you have joined… You are a fantastic player.” </p><p>“Isn’t he always in a rush?” You retort drily, earning yourself a sharp pat on the back and a loud cackle of amusement. You jump- you hadn’t realized that the said spanish speedster had snuck up behind you. Nor did you realize he had even boarded the dropship.</p><p>“Iy Iy, amigo, no need to be so rash with your words! I just like it fast!” His excited cackled borderlines near nothing when his voice cracks, and pardoning himself with a quick hand wave, he sat down abruptly to pull off his dialysis pack. “Merde… Stupid filter isn’t working.” </p><p>“Why yuh like dis, Silva?! I fixed yuh a brand new tank just yesterday!” </p><p>“Che, relaaaax. It was damaged when the rookie on your team threw the damn grenade. A little duct tape and we’ll be fine.” </p><p>“...I don’ know yuh.” Ajay sighed, frowning at his mention of the miracle adheisive and turning her body away from the fidgeting male. He chuckled, tapping his feet on the floor and casting a glance your way. </p><p>“BloodHound, amigo. You know what needs to be done to take the lead, right? A little risk, a little danger, it all comes to a fantastic time where your heart screams ‘Rápidamente’, no?” You could almost swear that his eyes were glimmering under the depths of his mask, and you could imagine the look; glimmering murky mint depths and blown pupils, as he was still high on the Stim he used in battle. </p><p>“...There’s a difference between being successful and being foolish.” </p><p>“And that sentence explains why Bloodhound is the Apex Champion, and not you, my friend.” Gibraltar chimed in, causing a rumble of laughter to rumble from the Legends. Octane chimed in, and you can’t help the small grin that touched your lips. </p><p>A string of curses follow when the laughter chimes down, and looking over, you note that he seemed to be having a hard time figuring out his machine. Shaking your head out of the clouds, you reach out an offering hand, the other beginning to strip away your gloves. “Having trouble, Octane?” </p><p>“Si… Want to take a shot at it?” He offered it up, hands shaking profusely as he landed the small device in your lap, and wrapping your fingers around the wrench, you look at the device with interest- by the looks of it, part of the wall that covered the electrical discharger had pressed against the wiring that led to the filtering device… </p><p>“The wires were pressed by the collapsing of the wall.” Using the back end that substituted for a screwdriver and lifting the wires to gingerly fix them back in place, the machine whirred to life once more, and the Speedy Legend hummed with relief, relaxing back against the cushioning of the Ship’s lounge couch. He was apparently relieved to get rid of the excess adrenaline, an odd sight to say the least. </p><p>“...You’re smart, compadre. You sure you don’t work in the mech field too?” </p><p>“No… Although it would mean cheaper upgrades to my tracking gear if approved.” You respond, tone teasing, albeit quiet, once you put back the machine. “You really should look to different methods of spiking adrenaline… You’re… excessively difficult like this.” </p><p>"You think I'm loco now? You should see me with a sugar rush.”</p><p>“I think I will pass for now,” Your tone is amused, but inside you were slowly growing more agitated within the confines of your suit. The longer you stayed in the ship, the harder it was to contain your childish fear of… well, being social. However, it seemed that the Fates’ Favour was on your side, seeing as the ship had touched down during your hazy thinking, and you were now standing, first to line up at the slowly opening hatch. Nothing new was thought of it; you were most socially awkward in situations like these, and the others did no judging. </p><p>“Oh yes; Amigo, we’re having a party later on! You should come- get loose, relax, have some fun. We’re gonna have the beuno merde tonight!” Octane raced ahead of you, already stripping off his helmet and giving you a wide grin of excitement. Mirage let out a whoop, waving his hands up to raise a cheer from the others at the sound of celebration. It seemed like everyone else was ready, but… </p><p>“Don’t worry, [Y/N].” Wraith cooed softly into your ear, patting your back before joining Mirage, looping her arm around his waist. The male hummed, gladly embracing her touch and further showing his affection for the woman by planting a loud kiss to her cheek. You stare, taking a moment to register what she could be planning before realizing she had you covered. Bloodhound was not to join; you were. </p><p>“You know they don’t like social gatherings, Octane, but I have a friend in Mech who could come instead?” </p><p>“Awh, I was hoping they would come, but… We need all the warm bodies to get a party started! Please tell me he isn’t a lightweight…” </p><p>“No… She isn’t a light weight.” Wraith sighed, shaking her head and rubbing her temples with thumb and forefinger. A large beaming smile stretched across Mirage’s face once he caught on to the plan Renee set, leaping over and using the crook of his arm to drag you towards the dorms. </p><p>“And with that my friend’s, I bid adieu! Me and ol’ blóð...ee, need to have a chit chat about their technique. Coming, babe?” </p><p>“Yes, yes, coming.” The void traveler called lightly, following shortly behind the two of you as Elliot chattered and you listened to Octane’s reaction to the promise of a new drinking buddy. </p><p>“Wooo-ho-ho-hooooooooooo! It’s a girl! I bet she’s hot, amigos, and clever- God I could go for a woman that could make me hard with just a few well said words.” </p><p>“I see which head is talking, Silva.” </p><p>“Oh come onnnn, Che! Give me a break, would you?” </p><p>“You'll get your break when I see yuh with a woman who wants more than just Octavio Jr., understand me?!” </p><p>“...Yes ma’am.” </p><p>Home, you thought to yourself, lips quirking beneath the heavy mask you bore to hide your appearance. To hide your greatest flaw, one you regret every day. You recall the night your uncle spoke to you, dying in your arms after a fatal blow from the Goliath. He reminded you of the Hunter Role, one he carried and would pass on to you that night.</p><p>‘[Y/N], dear child… When the time comes, you will take on the role as Hunter. You will be known as the first Blóðhundr.’</p><p>‘Blóðhundr, Artur?’ </p><p>‘Yes. For your keen sense of direction to Home, and the thrill of the hunt in your heart. This name carries deep responsibility. Do you know what it means, dear [Y/N].” </p><p>“..Bloodhound, Uncle Artur. As your name of Chief means Bear like...” </p><p>“Yes.. You deserve the name of Hunter! But, you mustn’t tell anyone what your dear chieftain Uncle has proposed, for if they were to know, they would call down the fury of Helheim’s Gaurdians. You are the one the God’s have chose…’</p><p>‘I am flattered by your choice, but I cannot. I am a wo!-’ </p><p>‘Shush! You will. You are only fit if you prove, and you have. Everything about you is perfect, my dear one. Everything except...’</p><p>‘...I understand, Chieftain Artur. I will bear the responsibility with great honour.’ </p><p>“...And with great honour will I bear responsibility…” You whispered, noting the flying speck in the sky above the boarding rooms, the sound of death’s toll on the birds call reminding you all too well of your past, those silky black feathers a relentless memory of your Uncle’s pained expression when you left his side. </p><p>“Dear Odin, please bless me well come near future.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Maybe(Rewrite)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Dragged to the infernal party at Mirage's second bar, [Y/N] finds herself opening up to the green haired wonder of a man.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Look who was waiting for ya, [Y/N]. I think a little Birdy Is here to greet you.” Elliot’s cheerful comment rose up from the rumbling chatter of the others around you. As loud as the male may be, you couldn’t help but notice the affection that the male demonstrated for all of his friends, even if he was feeling a little under the weather himself. Even now, he was keeping up a chipper act, which you knowingly take as him trying to cheer you up into a relaxed mood. </p><p>“Mmh.” </p><p>“Even when alone with your close friends, you talk little. You know, shed your scary loner skin and be nice. ” </p><p>“...If you’re trying to say I’m like the wolf in Earth’s childhood stories, that wears the skin of sheep to trick his prey…” </p><p>“Yeah!- Wait, No- Uhm…” The brunette faltered, hand poised in the air as he trots next to you, said hand soon rubbing against the stubble on his jaw. A frown and a string of frustrated mumbling followed the man as he further walked on, leaving you alone with Renee and the bird that had nestled itself on the tip of your helmet's top. </p><p>“He’s always like this before a drinking party. Don’t worry.” </p><p>“You say that, but there’s an edge on your voice that tells me you ARE worried about him. ” Your hand hesitates before it comes to rest gently on the woman’s shoulder, and as she looks over, you make a gentle sound of encouragement, a grunt. Her lips purse and she paused, reaching up momentarily to fish out the white contacts that film over her gentle blue-green eyes. </p><p>“He’s going bankrupt. He’s trying everything possible to help his mother, but… Nothing’s working, and he’s wasting all of his money doing so. Don’t get me wrong- If I remembered my mother, and the fact she had a sickness, I would do everything too, but.. If he keeps up at this rate, he’ll lose… He’ll lose a lot.” </p><p>“And you carry this burden on your shoulders why? He may be your lover, but he is a good, as well as fully grown, adult male. He may make the choices he finds fit.” </p><p>“...I… Yeah, your right… I just… I’m worried, is all.” The ravenette offered with a meek laugh, rubbing her hand to the side of her neck, just under her left ear. </p><p>“Don’t worry about it…” A pause, a waver in your voice as you note the bird atop your helmet impatiently pecking at the beads. “We are going drinking, after all, right?” </p><p>“You’re going in the jacuzzi.” </p><p>“And THAT’S where you’re wrong-” </p><p>“I’ll lend you a swimming suit- I know you’re a lot more muscular than I am, but it still would fit you enough, and the colour suits your skin tone.” </p><p>“And knowing you and your after game fashion sense, it’s a two piece bikini with no straps and barely any coverage.” </p><p>“It’s actually like a turtle neck, and the bottoms are similar to the bikini bottom underwear you’d find at the store.”</p><p>“No.” You sigh, hand raising subconsciously to brush across the edge of the goggles, noting the barely visible scarring around your hairline and the bridge of your nose. The same scars adorn the under and insides of your thighs, leaving them sensitive to touch and as dealt with before, you often covered them with ace bandages or gauze to prevent uncomfortable chafing from your armour. In a bathing suit… You would feel exposed. And since gauze and ace bandages are not well suited for wet environments, you were… undoubtedly going to be bothered. </p><p>“And here I thought you were being talkative. Haven’t you mentioned you wanted to grow comfortable with showing your face?” </p><p>“Perhaps...” Your voice trails off; did it have to be so soon to get so comfortable? Just thinking about it settled a nervous churning in your stomach, the suit feeling like it gained a couple hundred pounds in weight. Fiddling with the strap that kept the mask to your suit, it clicked off, and you hurriedly tugged it from your face to take in a deep gulp of fresh air. A few more deep breaths mildly soothe your nerves, and eyeing Wraith wearily, you scowl. “You play a dirty game.” </p><p>“I won’t force you into the jacuzzi, but the bathing suit is still a gift. Now get going, I put your dress on the bed earlier.” </p><p>----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------</p><p>Undressing from your armor was a long and arduous process, much of which took a lot of your confidence with each piece pulled off. To you, it was a piece of you, it MADE you. A lot of the clothing held sentimental memories, from the mask, to the goggles that Artur had crafted you. Of course, they had been modified to better suit your profession in the games, but you wouldn’t ever change the old gear out for new. In fact, the mask you wore has broken multiple times, and you were put out of commission for sometimes weeks, trying to fix it and repair it to it’s past image. The hatchet resembling your family crest? Even more fixating and time consuming. While a charge rifle remained your favorite, you still claimed the lives of your enemies with a final blow of Artur’s gift to you. </p><p>And then… then came the self hate for the scars. Caused by the same means of your parents death, you loathed that you had survived, while everyone else you loved died by things you somehow triumphed over. With your parents, the Coolant. With Artur… </p><p>You still keep the horn displayed, wrapped in his crest as a way to honour his death.</p><p> In fact, before you leave, you’re gazing at the sun bleached bone, hand poised on the door mechanism, the scanner continuously running your hand print and beeping through your hard thinking. The screams you hear every time you look at it… </p><p>Renee’s voice was the final thing to knock you out of your stupor, the woman having put her handprint into the lock scanner and seeing you standing there, eyes glazed over as you stayed quiet, just staring dumbly.  </p><p>She didn’t bother asking what was wrong; Renee was the first person you ever opened up too; she knew practically everything about you, including your past regrets. So she merely wraps a hand around your wrist and drags you out, the two of you exiting the building hand in hand. </p><p>On the walk, you and Renee keep quiet; with Elliot off at his bar serving up the guests of his private party, you and the woman could keep to yourselves, the most comfortable way of showing you were enjoying yourselves. Sure, she had stuffed you in the black turtle neck pencil dress, but you had to admit, she knew how to work magic with clothing. The dress fit nicely, the cork heeled wedges the only pair of high heels you would ever consider in the far future if you were ever forced into them again, and she even did the liberty of putting up the messy tangles you rarely groomed, particularly because they were always up in the hood. You looked, and felt like a woman… And you sort of enjoyed it. </p><p>“So…” She was first to break the silence, causing you to look over in her direction and wait patiently for her next coming words. It takes a moment for her to continue, but when she does, there’s a smile on her face, a look of smug pride adorning her features. “What do you think of the new you?” </p><p>“Despite knowing that you have a hunch of what I think, I’ll give you the satisfaction and boost your ego by saying you did surprisingly good.” </p><p>“Hey! Did you doubt me?!” </p><p>“Well,” Your eyes sparkle and a smile quirked onto the full curve of your lips as a gentle elbowing is gifted to her exposed side, the two piece dress flattering her petite curves nicely. “What would you do if I did?” </p><p>“Whatever… I’m not showing up with a beautiful woman in sweatpants and a baggy t-shirt. It’s a party.” </p><p>“With people.” </p><p>“Yeah. With your friends. Put some more faith in us, won’t you?” Her tone is gentle although scolding, and you couldn’t help but admit she had a point. However, now was the time to party, let loose, and get drunk, so you shove her little reminder into the far recesses of your brain and smile brightly. </p><p>“Mmh… Getting drunk shouldn’t be a problem.”</p><p>“That isn’t the point of this-.” </p><p>“...You invite me to a party within a place stacked with booze and expect me to stay sober?” </p><p>“You are unbelievable.” She remarks, rubbing her temples with thumb and forefinger as the two of you approach the waiting group. Octane approaches, a wide smile on his chiseled face, and giving Wraith a hard pat on the back, he grabs your hand and brings it to his lips with a gallant bow and a sly look in his eye. You flinch, holding back the urge to grasp for a Mozambique, only realizing that you left it. Physical touch is… well, uncomfortable. </p><p>“Oh hoh hoh, Renee, Amigo… You never said you would bring such an eye catcher as this one.. I’m Octane, but you can call me Octavio… Or Papi.” His wink sent a shiver down your spine and you scoff slightly, looking away with a tug of your hand. God was he an idiot… Of course, you have seen this flirtatious side of him, but having it directed in your way was a bit unnerving to say in the least. </p><p>“I think Octavio will work just fine.” </p><p>“Fair, fair. May I interest you in a drink?” </p><p>“I didn’t come all this way for socializing…” A roar went through the Legends gathering at your sentence, and with a loud cackle, Octavio took you by your hand and dragged you to the bar. Mirage smiled widely, exchanging a greeting with you that was lost over the thrumming of Crypto’s God awful music, and divied up a generous amount of whiskey into the shot glass you had been given. </p><p>The burn was pleasant, bringing with the taste a sense of relief. Seeing you take down the drink with so little as a hiss seemed to amuse Octavio, for he let out a low chuckle, voice deep with the alcohol’s heat. You weren’t going to lie; you had forgotten he was there as soon as you had been offered the drink. </p><p>In front of you, Mirage sipped his little martini, talking to Renee with a sense of adoration for the woman just from the way he looked at her. Gibraltar and Caustic sat in the jacuzzi, relaxing and chatting about only god knows what, their hairy chests proudly exhibited… Pathfinder was having a chat with Loba, his mechanical arm draped over the cold shoulders of Revenant, who for once looked unnerved in a situation. A few other Legends sat around, chatting, dancing, all seeming to have a good time. </p><p>“Comfy…” You utter softly, and when you realized you had spoken out loud, you cough into your arm with a muttered sorry. Octavio merely looked over, elbowing you gently and holding out his refilled glass, smiling. </p><p>“Eyyy, Hermosa, don’t you worry ‘bout a thing! Although, I do have to ask, what did you mean by ‘Cómoda’?” </p><p>“...It’s cozy, seeing your companions get along so well as they do. I see every legend, at least… Except for BloodHound.” </p><p>“Mmmm, if you continue joining us at these parties, you'll soon find out they are a no show quite often. Apparently has some kind of… Trauma, that leaves them not wanting to come..? They’re antisocial. Doesn’t stick around often, doesn’t talk often… They avoid everyone so much that nobody knows their real name, age, even their gender… I bet Blood is a Senior, no?”</p><p>“And you’re so sure?” You inquire, biting your lip and forcing a somehow painful smile onto your lips. “Maybe you could be completely off, and they’re a killer robot from a top secret evil base!” </p><p>“Haha, I like the brains on you, hermosa. But… I admire them. Even before I joined the games, I have looked up to them… I wish I could show them this, but… merde, it’s hard to talk to the tonto.” </p><p>You blink; you never really thought that this guy could ever look up to you. Matter of fact, you looked up to him. He could be true to himself with no care in the world, his people not caring if he wasn’t completing what he was born to do. And furthermore… he had more gall on his one hand than in your entire body. </p><p>“Oh… Odd to hear about them referred to that way. I’ve known them as a child.”  Not entirely a lie. </p><p>“Lo siento, lo siento, what? You’re childhood friends with Sabueso?! Cool! Amiga, confide in me, boy or girl?!”</p><p>“No.” </p><p>“Okay, okay, por favor, don’t hit me.” He smiled warmly, cackling at the small twitch in your lips, a smile. Shaking your head and knocking back what could have been your fourth shot of whiskey, you note the small change in the atmosphere between the two of you. Maybe it was just the alcohol you consumed like a drug, so much in fact that at one point, once your cheeks were beyond rosy and a glassy far out look caught in your eye, Mirage managed to slip in water along the way and you didn’t even realize it. </p><p>Eventually, things went pretty smooth, Octane drifting off to talk with a few of the other members of the small posay, Mirage and Renee huddled in the corner sucking face and whispering sweet nothings to the other. Rampart was keeping cozy with Ajay, and to the side you notice that Horizon was having a good time chatting with the new legend, Fuse. He’s a jolly fellow, and you had to admit, with a sad pang in your heart, that he reminded you of Artur. </p><p>You take the moment of peace to leave quickly, thinking about fresh air and gulping it down once exposed to the cool night breeze. Goosebumps prickle up your arms, under the heavy fleece turtleneck dress, and looking up, you keep busy counting the stars in the sky. </p><p>“Getting some fresh air, Si?”His voice is a surprise, and jumping lightly, you eye the mexican with tense muscles as he made his way to your side, cheeks bright and expression slack, relaxed. His expression is soft, beautiful mint green eyes capturing the glimmer of the lights and making them glow. </p><p>“Yeah...” You whisper, half talking to yourself just to ease the quietness between the two of you. He hummed, running his slender fingers through his wind tangled hair. You take a moment to gesture to the stars, uttering a soft, “It’s beautiful”, mostly to yourself. </p><p>“Reminds me of the skies in Psamathe. I used to sneak out as a boy, piss off the old man and his puta.”</p><p>More silence. His metal legs are bouncing lightly, the only sound besides the clinking of ice in your glass. You’re half tempted to start paying for Mirage’s bar expenses… He found a dealer with damn good alcohol. </p><p>“You should come by more often, hermosa. I enjoy your company.” </p><p>“You’ll have to do better than ask to convince me. I’m a busy woman, you’ll have to earn it.” </p><p>“Oh, trust me, I don’t take anything I don’t earn. And, if you don’t mind… I think I would enjoy learning more about your life with Sabeuso.” </p><p>“...Heh.” Your grin is small as you offer out your hand, which he takes and shakes it in the sealing of a silent, mutual deal. He lets out an excited cackle, the sound warming to the ears. You wouldn’t mind spending more time with him, but it was time to call it a night; You had an early game tomorrow scheduled for the duo’s, and you knew it would be a mistake to attend without enough sleep. And you didn’t trust yourself to be alone with him for so long with your heightened emotions and lonesome tendencies...</p><p>You straightened, turned on your heel, facing him and smiling gently. He paused, noting the look in his eyes to be confusion. When you gesture to the doorway, he seemed to catch on, a small pout finding his full, olive coloured lips. </p><p>“You’re leaving so soon? Amiga, the party just started; we could always just go to the back room and spend some time to relax…” </p><p>“Unfortunately, I have a game to participate in, and if I’m correct, you do too… But maybe next time, we’ll take up that offer. For now, keep your dick in your pants, Octane.” Your reply is amused, however hesitant; you don't ever want to have to explain why you have the scars that paint your skin and mind in shame, to have them ruin the moment of sweet bliss and romantic actions.. However, you felt the need to nurse his mind into thinking you were interested in him. You didn’t want to hurt his feelings. Maybe, in a different universe, you were. </p><p>“Well, if you insist. It was nice, getting to know you, Amigo del Sabueso.”</p><p>“I can second that… See you later, coworker.” Your reply is soft, and once Renee was aware of your leaving, you had turned and made your way outside, noting that Octavio was following behind you, as if to escort you like the gentlemen you knew he wasn’t. </p><p>The thought made you giggle, a sound that was rusty and light from disuse. Maybe.. Maybe you could be happy again. Maybe you would join these parties more often. </p><p>Maybe…</p>
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<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Win the Battle(Rewrite)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Your first battle against Rampart doesn't go as planned. </p><p>This bit of a chapter is not long, at all. xD It was supposed to be, but since the longer chapter's take so long to write, I think I'll do smaller ones so you readers don't have to wait so long.</p><p>-----</p><p>Author's Note!!!!!</p><p>I had published the first part, the unedited script so that you all had something to read as I finished up the rough draft to completion.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It’s simple to wake up in the dark of morning, only to revel in your brooding morning thoughts and a craving for chocolate coffee. It happened quite often. Usually around the time of quarter past 4, an hour before your parent’s tragic ends.<br/>
Dragging yourself out of bed is simple- you rarely slept, let alone slept in. With a promise such as frosted donuts and a whiskey tainted latte, it was hard to stay dreaming about past horrors.</p><p>Knocking, loud, quick, urgent against your door interrupted your process of pouring a generous amount of liquor into your black coffee, and with a twitch of your left eye, you put down the bottle and arrived at the automatic door. Hovering a hand over the locking mechanism, the device read your fingerprints and slid open the mantle with a soft hiss of air, revealing a frazzled looking Renee, decked up in one of her more expensive gear sets.</p><p>“What the hell, [Y/N], you’re still not dressed?!”</p><p>“What in the name of Odin’s holy family are you babbling about?”</p><p>“Have you not checked the time?!” Was all she replied with, shoving past and gesturing to the hologram above the kitchen stove, snatching up a donut and taking a vicious bite out of it. Your eyes bug out at the sight of the digital numbers, which read to be around 8 a.m. You’re baffled; how could it be so late, yet it’s still so dark out?</p><p>“That’s impossible, I never sleep in this late!”</p><p>“Well this time you did. How could you not have heard your alarm?!”</p><p>“I don’t set an alarm!!!” You cry incredulously, racing over to pull back your curtains and groan in chagrin. Rain. You forgot it was to rain today. Even if you didn’t wake up on time, the first hint of sunrise usually called you to consiousness. “Fuck, Renee, why didn’t you tell me sooner?!”</p><p>“I had walked down to the drop ship clear bay thinking you were there before me, like always! How was I supposed to know you were sleeping in like a baby?!”</p><p>“I shouldn’t have gone to that party, damn it..!” You contradict, kicking off the baggy sweats you wore for sleepwear and haphazardly thrusting on the underlayer of your multi-layered costume. You manage to strap the armour on backwards twice, hooking the attachments to the wrong ends around three times as many, and almost raced out the door without your mask before Renee caught your mistake in time to stop you with a screech of warning, something about your face not being “gussied up” for the duo game. Your response was nothing short of curses and blabbers of frustration, fumbling to thrust on the helmet and ultimately giving up on tying back your hair so it fit nicely in the helmet’s given space. You’d pay for that later, you were sure of it.</p><p>“GO GO GO!” Mirage’s scream of what seemed to be hurried support for your successful arrival immediately greeted you with the whirring of the drop ship’s engines and the multitude of cries from the other legends who noticed your sudden appearance. Anita hung over the edge of the hovering craft, fingers outstretched as far as they could go for the both of you running towards the leaving ship, and taking a leap up, you grasp the helping woman’s hand and gasp, out of breath as she pulls you onto the loading deck. Wraith makes sounds in the back of her throat, similar to the hacking Artur gave when  accidentally swallowing his favorite mouse toy, leaving the poor bird ultimately choking on it and making a disgusting retching sound until you managed to fish it out of his narrow throat.</p><p>Cheers went up through the other legends and a few rookies who were assigned to the ship, Loba eventually approaching to help you into her seat, noting you’re more than exhausted from your rushed morning. You wheeze a thanks, slouching over and silently weeping over your missed breakfast.</p><p>“Quite the entertainment today, Sabueso.” Ah, the Spanish Speedster… What did he want?</p><p>As it turned out, the Hispanic Psamathe Legend wanted nothing, instead simply holding out a tinfoiled cylinder and a steaming cup of coffee with a logo adorning the side, reminding you of a nearby grill you hadn’t the chance to visit yet. Confused, you raise your gaze, head tilting to the side ever so slightly to gouge out his intentions.</p><p>“...For me…?”</p><p>“Si, por favour. You were uttering the sounds of a hungered beast. I figured if I fed you, that you may take it easy on me today in the match.” His crooked grin added a sort of charm to his already amusingly smug expression, pulling a snort of exasperation from your lips before you take the offering with gratefulness. The meal in metal smelled delicious, and once unwrapped you could feel your taste buds singing praises to whoever made the food, for the smell of perfectly cooked peppers and seared meat was enough to remind you of your foodie side of the family.</p><p>“Go ahead, amigo, no one will stop you from tearing that thing to shreds. Madre Veronica makes killer burritos, I would know.”</p><p>“Hmmm?”</p><p>“I visit that joint on a regular- feels nice to have that branch of cooking so far from home. Burritos hit the far corners.” His tone is almost sentimental to his homeworld, and thinking about his soft voice, you finish your meal and wash it down with the minty brew.</p><p>“...She brews her coffee with chocolate mint…”</p><p>“Si, that’s right.”</p><p>“...Thanks, Octane.” You utter, feeling heat in your gut, soon blaming it on the coffee. Finishing your meal took longer now that you felt oddly sentimental over Octavio’s gesture of kindness, and once finished, you neatly licked off the wrapper cheese and tucked away the tin foil wrap into a spare ammo pocket for later disposal.</p><p>“Si. Now. Let’s get ready,” His voice dropped, a solemn tone dressing his usually careless demeanor with a sour hint. His relaxed posture is forgoed for a jittery, uneasy jambling of movements, and that’s when you realize it was time.</p><p>Time for the round to begin. Your throat is suddenly dry, and clearing it, you try out your accent once more, putting on that all too familiar facade.</p><p>“If the gods will it, we vinna…”</p><p>Good, you still had it even when you were half baked and still processing you quickly scarfed breakfast. You make a mental check to actually set an alarm before turning you attention to the task at hand. </p><p>As usual, just before the drop positions came into view, the full play visor flashed a series of names across your peripheral vision, as it did to all the others, every time a game was in play. It typically listed the teammates you’d work with, this time consisting of Bangalore. A preview of the other teams flashed across the screen next, a brief explanation for your brain about who you would fight.</p><p>Grunting softly, you peer over the gaping mouth of the drop ship, view focusing immediately on the hotspot. “Bangalore. We are to approach Hot. Be prepared to Slatra.”</p><p>“Solid Copy. D’ya think the rookie’s are ready for this blood fest?”</p><p>“Fuck off, Lady. I’ve done my fair share of Hot Zones.” A boy, a rookie who had paired with Octane, snarled at the woman, who chuckled, clapping him roughly on the back. </p><p>“Hah, I like this kid,” Bangalore’s eyes glimmered suddenly with a crooked idea you soon caught up on. Giving her a look, she shrugged childishly, before lifting her foot up and kicking the male square in the ass, sending him shooting out of the plane and beginning to flurry of rocketing squads to their win or lose. He screeched, more profound curses thrown at the Soldier, and laughing, she followed, you tagging on soon after.</p><p>The wind whistling through your mask, the thrumming in your ears as you shoot down to the ground with a flurry of colorized particle smoke, the thrusters kicking in the moment you reach ground so that you don't break your ankles, first time. However, some weren't as lucky, as the speakers mounted to walls blared that first blood had been taken, and the ring countdown had begun. Fortunately you and your squad were lucky, you being equipped with a Devotion and Bangalore a tier 3 shield. Bangalore knocks the first kill for the team, wiping out Mirage without so much as a blink before scoping out the area, her smoke weaving tendrils of ethereal like ribbons. It smelled faintly of sulfur and a metallic hint you couldn't quite name, a mix between copper and iron.</p><p>She motions for the two of us to move to ring, me running and he taking rooftops if possible every once in a while using her sniper to scope out the path we were to take for enemies. Duos was all about planning, scoping out your paths, setting traps… Anything went in duos. Traps made from trash, bandages from anything that could be used, dirty tricks like baiting. </p><p>Around the Lab, a large fire fight was in play, the air stained with smoke and rubble dust, as three squads went at it. You direct Bangalore over, eventually deciding to pull out an Arc and lob it at Rampart, who squawked before collapsing and being enfolded by the death box mechanics. Octane ran towards her discarded giant of a gun, which hides behind glowing walls, things that Rampart named as “Amped Cover”. His fingers twist around the handles, thumb jabbing into the nubby start button, and the mammoth whirs to life, the muzzle streaming bullet after bullet out of it’s maw with an insane fire rate per second that would put the R-99 to shame. His focus was on the large defense legend, who was trying (and failing) to dodge the bullets long enough to throw down a shield and revive his teammate.</p><p>As soon as Gibby's team was knocked, he had turned to you, forced in an energy clip, and crossed the dirt path, vial after vial hitting the ground once the Stim was used up and the glass tubings were deemed useless. He bent, skidding along the dirt and using the butt of his gun to swerve around, trigger in hand and nozzle soon in your direction, and you knew that this was the moment he had been waiting so eagerly for.</p><p>"Fuck, he's good." You utter, ducking as the first spray of bullets shoots from the nozzle of his L-Star, your hand thrusting into the ammo pouch and suddenly brushing against the surface of the tin foil wrapper. An idea struck you, and a helpful one considering you had too little ammo left to truly fight him, but with this...<br/>
Grinning, you wrap the edges haphazardly around your fingertips, hand outstretched to create a small pocket. Looking around, you note a large shard of glass before picking it up and holding it up, rolling out of the hiding spot you possessed and facing him.</p><p>"OCTANE! May the God’s sing your name with honour!" He turned at your voice, grinned, and shot. The electrical impulse hit the tinfoil, causing a jolt to run through your grip, but, to your glee, you took no damage. He faltered, noting the reflective device only too late as his own shot was directed back to him, nailing him in the chest and knocking him. A flurry of Spanish cusses follow, and quickly finishing him you snatch up his supplies and begin yet another onslaught.</p><p>2 Squads left.</p><p>One team to kill.</p><p>It all seemed rather simple, despite your odds. Bangalore had already been knocked, and when you reached her, it was too late for a revive. You could pop up the mobile respawn beacon you took from octane, but you were outside the last ring, with only 30 seconds to spare.<br/>
You thankfully had been able to revive her, the ship coming ring bound when you heard it. </p><p>"No hiding for the last team, mate. We got ‘em cornered, so this'll be an easy round." A scoffing feminine voice startled you, grabbing your attention and sending a wave of panic through your veins. Shit. Rampart had been revived. </p><p>Arming yourself, you peak around the corner. A girl in fancy Indian clothing stood between you and the next ring, and groaning to yourself, you managed to slide into the tiny drop shoot at your feet, army crawling around. Beforehand, you had dropped your mastiff and a good surplus of ammo for your reviving companion at the beacon.  </p><p>It took very little time to finally reach the back side of the party, and with a sharp whistle you simultaneously started firing, quickly knocking the Engineering whiz down. However, despite knocking her, the round wasn't over, leaving you with the conclusion that one of their teammates still remained.<br/>
"There's one more, watch out." You utter, only to freeze as the point of a gun touches the back of your head. It was hot, and freezing, you drop your gun as if that would save your ass. “Well ain’ this a wee bit o’ a pickle, mate?” </p><p>“...Fuse.” </p><p>“Houndy. Where’s your namesake Mozambique, hmm?” His voice is amused, cocky. You frown, eyeing him darkly through the corner of your eye. You had no idea if Bangalore got found… You might as well be screwed, with how he had cornered you so easily. </p><p>When you didn’t refuse to speak, he sighed, quickly undoing safety and pumping a round of bullets into the back of your torso, yourself coughing up blood and choking on the scent as it spewed and filled your mask. That hit was an immediate knock, the damned 5050 piercing your lungs and making a puddle out of your ribcage from how it shredded the bone. Your body screamed in agony, but you wouldn’t give the Australian the satisfaction of hearing you howl in pain. He starts his finishing move, reaching out his hand for you to take it. But before you can…<br/>
His head explodes, chunks of skull and an eyeball splattering over your face. When he drops, Anita stands there, grinning widely at you with a manic look in her eye, the words “Game Over” flashing over your gaze before you finally black out from the pain. </p><p>You won.</p>
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<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Lose the War(Rewrite)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>[Y/N] is faced with former demons, threatened by the presence of a friend who betrayed her.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Your head hurt. It felt as though a couple hundred soccer players had trampled over your face in cleats, your brain feeling as though it were a couple pounds heavier and a lot stupider. The LED lights were bright against the white wallpaper adorning the walls, the decorative slabbing against a thick red brick like a model’s ridiculously overpriced interior decorating. You knew immediately that this wasn’t your room, but it still took a good time to register the fact that you were unmasked and exposing your secret to God only knows who. </p><p>From the start, you had registered this wasn’t Wraith’s room; Renee was more for a gentler, pastel aesthetic with flowering vine lights and tight spaces. Elliot’s was more of a 90’s vibe, and the last time you checked, a wall covered with multiple exercise machine’s and a small kitchenette that produced a plethora of baked goods were the only things that stood out from one of the administrator’s decor, who happened to be the only big league who you trusted.</p><p>“You took quite a hit there, kid.” That gravelly, slightly masculine voice with a drill sergeant tone. Of course, it made fucking sense that it was her, after all, she HAD been on your team.  </p><p>“You… have an interesting taste, given your usual persona.” You comment lightly, taking your time to gaze out the overwhelming window that gave off the sight of little ol’ Legends Lane. A scoff is heard behind you, and that’s when you finally turn to fix a tense examination on the African woman. </p><p>Her arms are crossed, muscles tense and shiny after what you assumed to be her morning workout, given the Boxer’s tape and the sweat patches lining her simple white t-shirt. Her bushy crew cut is neatly tamed and combed back so that it miraculously stayed back on her head, which mistified you greatly. If only you could tame your wild locks with gel as she could. </p><p>“What… exactly happened.” </p><p>“Well, in short, the majority of the competitors and all the watchers watched Fresh Meat absolutely wreck your 6 before getting his brains blown out by Yours Truly.” </p><p>“Fuse...” You murmur, throwing back the sheets and slowly getting to your feet, before fixing her with a wide, confused stare. “How the hell did that loud mouth get the jump on me?” </p><p>“No idea.” She explained, picking mindlessly at a scab across her left bicep. Another stretch of silence follows before she jerks her head towards the table, where you note some food and a change of clothes from your Suite. Then she elbows you, fixing her serious brown eyes on your own [e/c] ones. </p><p>“The way you froze up… It’s almost like you were scared.” The sudden mention of your reaction brought a terrified shiver down your spine, goosh flesh rising instantly at the remembrance of your childhood. A memory of a group of boys, surrounding you and cackling as a gun presses to your head. Your in pain, bruises and naked under their threatening gazes. Why that reminded you of the past was beyond you. </p><p>“I-... I can’t answer that, Bangalore. It’s… complicated.” </p><p>“Complicated my ass. Well, whenever you need to fess up, my office is open during 2000 hours roughly.” The African muttered, then looked towards the door, waiting. Just standing watching, every once in a while muttering a soft tone under her breath as if she had a thought she wanted to spew. </p><p>“...Hey, Anita..” You start, lips pursed and fingers clutching the hem of what you assumed to be a spare shirt of hers. Your breath stutters and it takes you a moment before it’s collected again before you are able to mumble a few words. “Who… else saw me?”</p><p>“...No one. Renee made damn sure of that. She advanced your way as soon as her box lifted and practically ripped Silva’s head off when he tried to unmask you.” You snort, a gentle smile touching your lips. Oh Renee…. Ever the protective mother. She was always one to count on. </p><p>“Let me guess… She brought the clothes and food?” </p><p>“Brought the clothes; my neighbor made the food and left it at my doorstep. Speaking of which, eat up. You need your strength. You may have won, but it makes no difference either way.” After her words of scorning wisdom, she made quick work of ruffling your hair and exits without so much as another word. You stare after the way she retreated, surprised. It took you a few minutes to register, but you knew that this woman could join your little group of friends who knew your secret. </p><p>However nervous you were about it.</p><p>Among the small thoughts and sounds of the apartment, you could almost, almost distinctly separate a funky beat from the chirping birds who lived in Anita’s balcony rafters, a throaty baritone voice belting out the line’s to a rap song just a room over. It took you a moment through your mouthful of a breakfast burrito to realize, and with sudden overwhelming terror, that it was Octane. </p><p>The fucking Speed Demon lived next to Bangalore. It all clicked into place; Octavio was the neighbor who left the food, he was sucking up to you as of late, of course!</p><p>Nearly choking on the partially chewed bite of egg and tortilla, you washed down the large lump with the provided orange juice and scrambled out of the safe confines of Bangalore’s bed, throwing open the door and fixing a frazzled gaze on her relaxing form. The woman looked up slowly from the Holovision, cocking an eyebrow up at your sudden outburst, and huffing slightly you jerk your thumb dramatically over your shoulder, pointing at the wall. </p><p>“When were you going to tell me?!” </p><p>“Didn’t cross my mind, if that’s what you’re questioning.” She responded bluntly, sinking further into the cushions of her white couch and returning her focus on her soap opera. Thumbing the remote, she then pointedly changed to a channel re airing last week’s Duos game. “Speaking of which, you should probably go thank him for the food.” </p><p>“Un..Unbelievable Anita!!! Seriously?!” </p><p>“Yep.”</p><p>She was serious. You could tell by her voice, and if you weren’t going to thank him, you had the feeling she would. But how could you thank the man who almost exposed you to the millions of people who watched the games? </p><p>“Fine! Fine… I’ll.. ask him out to do something have a clue what.” </p><p>“He said he wanted to know more about Hound… Why not tell him?” </p><p>“You know better than I do that he can’t keep secrets worth shit.” I bluntly state, sighing through my nose at her lazy agreement but otherwise keeping to herself. But then you pause; he had mentioned that he had never been to Talos..</p><p>Could you take him?</p><p>“Do you think I should take him camping?” </p><p>“Now?” Anita paused, muting the tv and looking at you with what you could only assume to be her version of surprise, with just an eyebrow cocked high on her forehead. Pursing her lips, she stayed silent before finally standing, remote tossed to the side and phone picked up. She scrolls through some things, makes a sound of irritation, and then types something. “You do know we have no off break until next week, copy? He’ll be waiting for your promise for a while.” </p><p>You shrug, dancing back and forth on your heels as you think about your choices. “It’s either something memorable, or a five dollar grease bucket from a restaurant. He’s been too nice as of late to deserve diabetes.” </p><p>“He clearly has a crush on you.” </p><p>“Hell no, he does not! He doesn’t even know if I’m a boy or girl! How could he be smitten just for the mask?” </p><p>“It’s not just the mask, Hound.” The former soldier’s small smile dropped, a serious tone setting in her features and striking you as odd for the short time you had talked. Her eyes search your face, as if trying, and most likely succeeding, in finding your unwillingness to accept her reason for his friendliness. “It’s a hell of a lot more than that.” </p><p>“Then what is it?” </p><p>“...That’s something you need to find out for yourself. Now run along; I want to finish this re-run.” </p><p>“...So much for help…” You grunt under your breath, finally resorting to saying a sullen farewell and leaving the woman’s pad with a small slam of the door. Now, if only you had thought of the possibility of Octavio leaving his room at the same time, because if you did, it would’ve saved you from quite the heart attack. Yet, you didn’t, and as you bent over to tie your shoelaces, the sudden tapping of a finger to your shoulder caused you to jump and nearly shriek with surprise, horror setting in your stomach at the unmasked face of the said male. </p><p>“[Y/N]. Surprised to see you here, hermosa.” His voice is dripping with smug retort, as he knew he just scared the living shit out of you. And when he leans to peer over your shoulder, you can’t help but bristle with anxiety. “How’s Blood doing?” </p><p>“They’re fine- Just came to visit them, in fact. It’s a coincidence you live next to the woman who offered them sanctuary, considering you tried to reveal their identity..” </p><p>“Heyyyy, chica, don’t worry! Wrath explained pretty heatedly about the situation. I won’t try again.” To emphasize his promise, drew with a finger over his heart in crossing motions, then proceeded to ‘zip’ his mouth shut. You snort, and although you keep a front up, you couldn’t help but think to yourself how childish he looked, cheeks puffed out while tossing away the ‘key’ to his agreement. Walking on, he follows behind, arms crossed behind his head and back stretched. You note his attire; simple jogging shorts and a wife beater top, green as you had assumed all of his wardrobe to be. </p><p>“So… What happened after Blood fainted?” </p><p>“Well… They woke up by the end; delirious, etc, etc. Wraith had immediately jumped to save their sorry ass from yours truly, as I didn’t know at the time that the whole mask thingy wasn’t just for the loco mysterious vibe they have.” He shrugged, then raced in front of you, holding open the door with an exaggerated bow. “Speaking of which, why can’t the Hunter reveal their face to the general public?” </p><p>“It’s a sacred thing… Only the tribe, and some special cases, are allowed to observe the face of the ‘Chosen One’, and live.” </p><p>“Kinda sounds like my situation with Mama. Her friends don’t know that her ‘Successful mijo’ is actually the idiot that ‘sponsors’ Silva Pharmesutics who blew off his legs. I have to wear pants at her fancy drinking parties, Hermosa. P a n t s.”  You stare, finding yourself giggling soon after upon imagining the male with said attire; you could almost admit you felt sorry for him. Upon your laughter, his chest puffs out and he smiles, kicking open the doors to the staircase and holding it still for you to pass. </p><p>Unknowingly, you had led the two of you to the living room the legends shared, and pausing, you sat. He follows, grunting with relief and instantly grappling for the controller of the gaming console, tossing you the spare and signing into his account. You pause, staring at the device dumbly; to be honest with yourself, you never really played the thing before, and this was new. </p><p>He seemed to notice your discomfort, because he nudged you with his leg and gestured to the buttons in turn, introducing them to you. His smile is contagious, you feel yourself smiling too. The game starts, and you both frantically spam buttons, trying to take the other down in the pvp type game. It was a cute, colourful game, something you could see yourself playing often if you bought a console for yourself. </p><p>Before you know it, 8 hours had passed, consisting of beer drinking, controller throwing, and snack munching, the two of you squabbling and jeering at the other to egg each other on. You hadn’t noticed, but after Renee had jumped up onto the couch, grabbed a third controller and joined, she said that the other’s have been watching and enjoying the moment you two had, playing games and relishing the other’s company. </p><p>When you look his way, you almost notice the jealous tint in his eye when he looks over at Renee. Before you caught it, he’s already back at the game, chortling when he takes out Renee’s character, doing a little dance with his legs to celebrate his victory. <br/>----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------</p><p>The calm in your heart didn’t last long. With Fuse’s season coming to an end by the week’s peak, the new legend’s were to be introduced. Yet again, your friend circle would be disrupted by the new arrival of not one, but two new people. </p><p>When you and the other had been pulled in to check out the proposal of multiple contestants being chosen, you almost felt sick to your stomach. Especially at the paper you had been handed last. </p><p>Elais Wagner.</p><p>“You can’t be serious.” Your voice is buzzed through the mask you wore, and although the heavy armor covered your form, you could tell that Alex, the Administrator who was informed of your past, saw your rigid posture and gave you a sympathetic look. Of course he couldn’t go to the CEO. If word were to get out that Bloodhound was raped.. </p><p>Your tribe could suffer drastically. </p><p>“Sorry, Hound. We had to pick two, and he was the next choice besides the other.” </p><p>“...I don’t accept this.” </p><p> </p><p>“You don’t have too.” The CEO said coldly, his eyes narrowed at your outburst. You ball your hands into fists, the leather squishing together with a rustle. Renee’s hand reached out and grasped your shoulder, most likely to prevent you from attacking the emotionless male. It made sense that a heartless business man ran the world’s bloodiest sports game. “You have no choice in the matter, regardless of your status as Champion. And I assure you, if you risk this game’s reputation over such a fickle matter of childhood drama, you will be suspended and removed.”</p><p>“That’s not fair, Senior!” Octane exclaimed sharply, stepping forward. A few others murmured, but no one stepped up or continued after the blood curdling glare he sent our way. It shut us up. </p><p>“You will continue performing at peak strength for season 9. Failing to do so because of another member will result in your pay being halved and yourself questioned for breaching contract rules.” </p><p>The group is dismissed, forced from his office and the door being locked behind us. The other’s, besides Renee, Mirage, and Bangalore disperse, going back to their rooms for half hearted celebration at the harsh conversation that happened. You stand, hands tight and lip bitten into so hard blood poured into your mouth. This… This couldn’t be happening. </p><p>You left Talos to avoid him. </p><p>And now, he comes back into your life to ruin it more. </p><p>You may win the battles, but he was sure to make you lose the war.</p>
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